


All Distant Utopia

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Childhood Memories, F/M, Pining, References to England, St. George's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although Neal had never considered himself a nostalgic person, the surgical attending finds himself thinking about St. George's Day and of a dream beyond his reach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Distant Utopia

                                                                       _All Distant Utopia_

 

Neal had never considered himself a nostalgic person. There were times in which he thought of the past, but not of the reminiscence that some people were prone to. However…

Today was April 23, 2016.

Most would associate this day with spring. Neal had thought of how England and the north of the U.S. were the same with the fact that both areas had cold winters and a warm spring. It was starting in April that the grass would start to regain its color, flowers blooming among the weeds, and children playing outside just as he had played as a child. Neal remembered of how relieved he had felt when he had first arrived in Angels without coats or scarves that would be so common in England during the winter. Leanne – she had just been Dr. Rorish then – had asked him why he was smiling when it was raining. It was more pouring than raining, the rain almost hurting if someone stayed outside long enough.

Rain was also common in England. There had been times when Neal had been sick of the rain, wanting nothing more for it to stop. It had been in January when the residency director had asked him that question. He remembered it because Dr. Rorish had muttered under her breath that her son would have a fit because he wouldn’t be able to play outside. A fond look appeared in her eyes, and Neal half-wondered – then – if they would become close. Just as he had wished when he had arrived here.

 _“It’s not snowing, Dr. Rorish.”_ The resident had been surprised to find that Dr. Rorish was looking at him with undivided attention, no humiliating words coming from her mouth and her gaze curious. Neal’s heart jolted at the expression the older doctor had on her face. _“Normally, there’s snow and ice. It’s cold, but here it’s...”_ He remembered the memory as if it was yesterday. Although it had taken a long time, Neal and Leanne had become close. It was a feeling Neal could not describe, being able to be friends with your mentor and allowing themselves to see them at their worst. He never had that relationship with his father.

As a child, Neal had simply thought that his father didn’t truly care for him. Why else would he criticize everything? the young little boy had thought as he looked through his dark brown eyes as his father mercilessly corrected a homework assignment. _Even if I breathed, he would somehow find a way to criticize that._ Neal almost laughed at the once-omnipotent anger he former self had against Peter Hudson. Although they had hugged after his mother had been resting in the ICU, the relationship between Neal and his father was still strained at best. It wasn’t often that Neal thought of his father; often when thinking about his parents, he thought of his mother.

Although he wouldn’t say a word, he loved Leanne Rorish as much as he loved his mother. The dark surgical attending remembered of how a stone-cold feeling had risen inside of him as he heard that Leanne was leaving. Although he had told Mike that there were no hard feelings, Neal had lied to his friend. All the arguments he had used with Leanne against the then-dying woman named Connie remained in his mind long after he held his arm around Leanne. Neal had understood why Leanne had to leave. And yet, in his heart, he had only felt sorrow. It was like saying goodbye to a friend – a close friend, and a mother combined. Needlessly to say, Neal was very happy when Leanne had chosen to stay. A part of his heart still clenched at the thought of what would have happened if Leanne had left – and with another broken heart as Grace Adams walked among the hallways of Angels again.

 _I would go mental,_ Neal thought to himself. His mind was still haunted by of how his relationship with Christa had ended. Although the surgical attending attempted to mask his pain, Jesse and Leanne weren’t fooled. Neal could imagine the two close friends talking about him when he wasn’t within ear-shot. They would know of how Neal would hide his emotions in his heart, for they remembered his prior heartbreak as well. _Christa…_ The blond resident refused to leave his mind, even when asleep. He wondered if Christa felt the same way too.

It was St. George’s Day. Even though he wasn’t in primary school anymore, Neal could still hear the teacher’s voice as she explained to them about the holiday. St. George’s Day was a holiday celebrating the death of a saint that had died honorably in fourth century. It was considered a holiday in England. Neal could remember of how each year he was taken to a parade by his mother, the red and white banner of the English flags waving in the wind. Neal had mostly been happy to not have to go to school, as his mother took him to the annual parades despite his father’s displeasure, but the infectious smile on his mother’s face as she waved the English flag proudly stuck in his mind many decades after he had grown. To him, the holiday wasn’t about love for the queen and country or religion as it was for some people.

It was about the future. Neal hadn’t thought about the future much with Grace. He supposed the only time that he thought about the future was when he was going to go to Haiti with her. It seemed that his mindset had been of the present. Every day Neal spent with Grace was enough. Just to see her smile was enough to make him want to stay by his side. Now, as his dark eyes glanced around the ER to find a specific blond resident, Neal thought of how the holiday he had once only associated with spending the entire day with his mother had changed to hopes about the future.

 _Christa…_ Perhaps it was ironic that the blond resident had a name related to Christianity, which St. George had died for more than one thousand years ago. Her name had several meanings, Neal knew. _Chosen one._ A thin smile appeared on his lips at the memory of his sudden curiosity of the meaning of Christa’s name. It had been something which he had not done before; it was not like him to do something as sudden as look up the meaning of a name of a person – a colleague and a resident, nonetheless – that he had only met two days ago. Neal hadn’t realized what he had felt then. Now as he watched the resident talk softly to a young teen girl who had gotten into an automobile accident – stable, superficial wounds with no need for surgery – he realized what his feelings were.

Before they had broken up, Neal had wondered of how Christa would react if he had told her that he loved the rain. He never had the chance to tell Leanne what he was about say on the day he saw something other than criticism on her face, for another patient had come in with no time to explain what he had wanted to say. The rain here in L.A. was warm, without any of the coldness he had expected from being born in cold country. At least that was how it was for him when Neal first arrived here at Angels. He wanted to tell her more than the stories he had told Grace – about his difficult relationship with his father that had never been stated but always there, and memories of waiting with loneliness as the young boy waited for his parents to come home. He had never told Grace about the fight he had with his parents after graduating from med school. Somehow Christa had that effect on him. Somehow…she had the ability to see him for who he was, and allowed the words that were always there but never said to finally come free.

He had wanted to take to England someday. It was deep within his mind, yes, and Neal called himself a daft fool for thinking so deeply so quickly, but the sight of seeing the tension disappearing from Christa’s face after another awkward day with Grace and as she slept remained in Neal’s mind even when now he slept alone.

The surgical attending wanted to tell her about so many things, about how he wanted to show her so much of his life that he often didn’t think about – something that he thought he left behind in England, with surgery and his overbearing father. Neal found himself thinking about taking Christa to England, where she would _properly_ meet his parents and show her where he had gotten his medical degree. Neal was certain that the picture of his unsmiling twenty-two year-old self reluctantly wearing the white coat was still there in the records somewhere…and somehow, even that seemed significant if he could show her.

St. George’s Day…he wished to show her St. George’s Day.

Of how much it meant to him to show Christa of how much their relationship meant to him.

 _Perhaps…_ Neal thought as he looked onto the medical chart again as Christa was walking by, _that dream hasn’t yet died._

Later that night, Neal dreamed of Christa. She was smiling. Surrounded by a sea of light green grass with the clear sky overhead. With the sun shining in his eyes, Neal could only see that Christa was wearing a flowing light blue dress. Her skin was soft and her smile was pure joy as she turned to him and called his name.

The dream was as beautiful as it was distant.

Perhaps it was a reflection of the Arthurian legend, where the king was said to be sleeping in Avalon – known as the all-distant utopia. A place where mortals couldn’t reach. Waking up to find tears in his eyes, Neal found that he had never more wished that he could wake and find the all-distant-utopia which he could not reach.

_When will you come home with me again, Christa?_


End file.
